


Vitality

by Akranes



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Body Image, Body Worship, Chubby Kink, Chubby Rhy, Depression, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mentions of Nightmares, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, mentions of anxiety attacks, past trauma, this is mostly soft i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akranes/pseuds/Akranes
Summary: In the wake of Osaron, Rhy had spent most of his time rebuilding London: the city, the people, his own mental state....Perhaps it shouldn't have come as such a surprise to find another impact of peace collecting along his waistline.
Relationships: Alucard Emery/Rhy Maresh
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. Rhy

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for the Shades of Magic series ahead, obvi~
> 
> This is like 50% the boys coping with the emotional trauma a few years after the events of the Shades of Magic series and 50% about chub. The kink here is pretty mild compared to what I usually write (at least until the second chapter? lol). I could probably pass this off as not a kink fic at all, just a post-canon fic with weight gain themes among others, buuut knowing my personal inclinations and the voice I write with, I think it’s better to be safe than sorry, so hence the tags. 
> 
> So **please be aware that this was written by someone with a kink, please read the tags and if they sound potentially triggering or just not your cup of tea, PLEASE DON’T READ**. I haven't seen a single chub-kink related fic in this fandom so I think the audience for this is probably at zero, but that's never stopped me~
> 
>  _On the emotional trauma side_ : there’s mentions of panic attacks, anxiety, depression, nightmares, vomiting, both good and bad coping mechanisms, etc. Most of it is past tense, and personally I don’t think I wrote it too heavy, but still be aware of your own limits and what might trigger you <3
> 
> Lastly, don’t get too excited (lol) when you see there’s to be a second chapter: it’s essentially the same chapter as this one, but from Alucard’s perspective. When writing this I’d been bouncing around and playing with both of their voices, trying to decide which I liked best and for what scenes, then I decided I really liked both, and couldn’t bear to not include both perspectives. Alucard’s chapter goes a little longer than the first and will include the ~sexy~ scene that the first leaves off at the end~

Rhy was in his bedchambers, wardrobe doors open and clothes strewn around. His feet were planted in front of the ornate mirror hanging against the wall, examining his reflection in disbelief.

There was to be a small, intimate banquet for various leaders of Arnes, held in the Rose Hall, in about a month. It was an annual affair, one intended to show the appreciation the royal crown has for its loyal and obedient vassals.

Rhy, in an attempt to be less wasteful and frivolous, had been rummaging through his wardrobe, wading through the styles of seasons past, wondering if anything would be suitable for the affair, and thus suitable for reuse.

It was out of character, perhaps, for him to skip the opportunity to have a new garment made for the event. But, marked by Kell setting off for a new adventure over two years ago now, Rhy was King of Arnes. And somehow the title alone was enough to prompt a second thought when he was being arguably a tad wasteful. He was making an effort to not use his nation’s resources too carelessly.

Although, Rhy was now feeling a bit resentful of that ideology. If he had maintained more of his princely arrogance and impetuousness, perhaps he wouldn’t have been made aware of this particular problem in such a humiliating way.

He had gained weight.

As evidenced by his inability to close the trousers he had worn only last season, to a precarious banquet in Vesk, celebrating the coronation of their new King, once prince, the eldest brother of Cora and Col. Rhy still shuddered at their memory. But the affair had been lovely, and important to smoothing the frayed relationship between Vesk and Arnes. 

For the affair, his tunic and trousers had been freshly sewn out of deep red, luxurious fabric. There was no overlapping of the guest list between that event and the one on the horizon, save for himself and Alucard, so Rhy thought it would be clever to reuse the ensemble. After all, besides the red being a symbol of House Maresh, it was rather on-trend this autumn.

His eyes flitted to his unfastened trousers, where his tanned stomach poked through the flaps.

 _And how is that not a careless use of Arnes’s resources?_ A feeling Rhy was not very familiar with, _shame_ , crept up his throat.

How had he not realized? He had hardly noticed the dissolving of another princely trait of his; vanity. Surely if he had looked in a mirror half as often as he did when he was a bit younger, he would’ve noticed this development much sooner.

But after - well, after _everything_ , when he looked himself in the eye, all he saw was hollowness; a void staring back. So, he began avoiding looking too hard a long while ago. He still appreciated his own good looks, had a taste for good fashion, and could get a little caught up making sure his crown settled just right on his curls, but it had been quite a while since he gave himself a long, hard look in the mirror.

He turned to the side in his mirror to observe how far his stomach, his _belly_ stuck out. It was soft and round, cresting out from his ribs. He put a hand on it and felt the flesh dip beneath his hand easily.

“Sanct,” he muttered to himself. It was even worse than he had thought.

The trousers were only from _last season_ , after all. It had only been a little over three months since he last wore them. Sure, the fabric was stiff and unforgiving, but he had gotten them on fine. They hadn’t even been uncomfortable.

Beyond that, they had been freshly made to fit him at the time. And it didn’t take a genius to realize that the trousers had been made with whatever his measurements were three months ago, which were surely larger still than his measurements before his coronation. 

Frustrated, he gripped the flaps of his trousers and attempted to fasten them one last time. He watched his reflection with disdain, noticing how even sucking his stomach in didn’t hide the soft appearance; even more, his stomach creased into two unflattering rolls as he bent over, trying to force the button through the hole.

“ _Sanct_ ,” he cursed again, more rankled this time. How could he have let this happen?

His mind drifted to how he had been spending his days recently, and it became a little more obvious.

Surely, he had been enjoying life lately. Merrily overeating, swapping it for the overdrinking he was more prone to for a while, at affairs and banquets. It had been such a relief, feeling genuinely _happy_ again, that Rhy hadn’t stopped to think for a single moment that there could be repercussions. Rhy had a flair for dramatics, as he had always been told, and the amounts of parties and festivities held in Arnes had only increased with his kingship, mostly in celebration of the city’s survival. Witnessing London come to the brink of destruction, to turn around and begin thriving once more a mere two years later, was remarkable. Astounding. Every day, he was in awe of his citizens and his city, of their strength, perseverance and resilience. It seemed only natural to celebrate it.

And then, of course, there was his partiality to sweets. Even as a child, he could remember sneaking into the kitchen before events and swiping little cakes and sweets off the tables. Sometimes he’d get caught by one of the cooks, but even then they’d only smile indulgently at their little prince and tell him that if he was feeling peckish, all he had to do was say so.

Alucard was well aware of his predilection for sugar as well, and spared no expenses in treating his husband and king. Rhy’s mind wandered to all the times Alucard had traipsed into their bedroom, brandishing a box of chocolates from Faro or a plate of milk sweets, or really anything sugary and rich he could get his hands on. He’d either let Rhy work through them on his own, or sometimes he’d pluck one up and request Rhy open his mouth and he’d place them, one by one, onto Rhy’s soft and waiting tongue.

Despite himself, he felt his body warm at the memory. Those moments were so intimate, indulgent and sincere, and he felt even more dour when he realized the cumulative impact they had on his waistline.

His mind drifted back to his lovely, charming husband. He was a clever man, and was _surely_ well aware of Rhy’s increased stature. Why hadn’t he said anything? Allucard was a tease in any and all senses of the word. Rhy would’ve expected to get some ribbing from him, at least, about how pudgy he was becoming.

Dread filled Rhy. He’d expect that from Alucard, perhaps, unless the man was truly displeased by it. He’d surely keep quiet then.

Rhy swallowed heavily. That must be the answer; Alucard found him less attractive now but hadn’t said anything in fear of hurting Rhy’s feelings. He’d set to lose it, then, that’s all. Stop allowing himself so many indulgences. Actually say _no_ when Alucard or the staff brought him a plate of sweets as he rummaged through some royal documents.

He shoved the trousers down his hips and thighs, giving the offending body parts a glare when they had the gall to jiggle from his movements.

He had just slipped his roomy dressing tunic back on when Alucard strolled through the door to their bedroom. He looked Rhy up and down, and the corner of his lips quirked.

“Just getting out of bed, are we?” he teased, sauntering over and placing a hand on Rhy’s hip, giving his cheek a kiss. Rhy tried not to flinch at Alucard’s hand, so obviously on a plump roll of flesh where there was once only lean lines.

Rhy swallowed, “I’ve been looking for something to wear to the banquet at the end of the month.”

“Ah,” Alucard said, wandering to their bed and collapsing on his back with a sigh, “Anything strike your fancy?”

“No,” Rhy said, in a voice that was too hard. He cleared his throat and said, “I’ll go to the seamstress today, ask her to make something new.”

He had Alucard’s attention in earnest now. He propped himself up on his elbows from where he was laying on the bed, and was regarding Rhy with inquisitive but cautious eyes. 

“Everything alright, love?” he asked.

The ‘love’ almost got Rhy. It hadn’t taken Rhy long to love Alucard, and he suspected the same was true for him, but it wasn’t something they had said right away, and hearing it from Allucard’s lips still took his breath away.

For as clever and observant as Alucard was, Rhy was a talented actor. Growing up as a prince demanded as much.

Straightening his shoulders, he turned towards Alucard with an easy smile. “Of course,” he said, walking over to the bed to lie on it with him.

Alucard smiled back, but his eyes were calculating. Rhy could tell he hadn’t quite fooled him.

Alucard turned to his side to face Rhy and moved closer, since Rhy had intentionally laid so there was space separating them. He pulled Rhy into him so they were both laying on their sides, facing one another. He grinned mischievously and pushed his knee between Rhy’s plush thighs. Inadvertently, Rhy felt his face heat. Alucard put a hand on Rhy’s cheek.

“What should we do today?” Alucard mused, reaching out to trace his thumb across Rhy’s lower lip. Rhy suppressed a shiver in response. Alucard had no right to be so successful at seducing Rhy, husband or not.

“Well, I’ll be off to the seamstress shortly,” Rhy answered.

Alucard hummed, tracing the line of his eyebrow down to his cheekbone, like he was trying to commit Rhy’s face to memory.

“You wouldn’t rather lie here with me?”

Rhy forced a flirtatious grin, but it felt empty. “As much as I’d love to, I’d rather not procrastinate the errand.”

It was admittedly unlike Rhy, and Alucard’s brow furrowed, but only for a moment. “I’ll join you, then,” he said.

“No,” Rhy said, too quickly, and now Alucard’s face twisted at the rebuff.

“You should go to the sanctuary,” Rhy said, “Master Tieren could use your help working the spell for the barrier around the Rose Hall.”

Alucard wrinkled his nose, “He’s got plenty of priests. Am I being dismissed, my liege?”

Rhy scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he sort of _was_ , and said, “Of course not. It was just a suggestion. Something to do.”

Rhy could hear the edge in his own voice.

Alucard was regarding him carefully. The look felt baring somehow, and Rhy couldn’t meet his eyes for long. At some point, Alucard’s hand had come to rest on his waist, right where it creased between rolls of flesh. Rhy hadn’t even noticed.

Trying to keep from cringing, Rhy plucked it off himself and kissed Allucard’s knuckles before rolling out of bed.

Alucard watched him with sharp eyes. “I suppose I’ll see you later this evening, then?”

Rhy nodded, already heading towards the door to make his desperate escape. “Yes, of course,” he said, opening the door to slip out.

He heard Alucard call a dry and unamused, “Goodbye, then!” and felt shame settle over him anew.

That was a sloppy interaction. Frustration continued to build in Rhy as he stalked off to the royal seamstress’s workroom. Rhy was once so talented at casual deceit, or at putting aside something that was bothering him and maintaining his composure. What was wrong with him?

Then again, it had always been different with Luc. He saw through Rhy, and sometimes he seemed to know more about Rhy than Rhy himself. It was never worth it to be dishonest to Alucard; beyond the inherent issues of lying to a lover, Alucard could always tell when something was amiss. 

When he arrived, the seamstress politely and hesitantly suggested they take updated measurements for his new garments. Rhy didn’t question it and felt his stomach twist.

Even if it left things awkward, he was glad he told Luc not to come. He avoided looking in the mirror in the dressing room as he stripped down, and he didn’t look at the tape measure as it was wrapped around his belly.

_

Rhy wasn’t _hiding_. Not really. Just because he was pointedly avoiding the areas of the palace he’d usually spend his time, that didn’t mean he was _hiding_.

In truth, he was already missing his husband’s presence and regretting slipping off to the royal library after visiting the seamstress. He had considered a stop by the barracks, speaking to the master of arms and resuming his long-forgotten broadsword training. When Rhy failed to manifest any magical abilities, King Maxim had ordered sword and physical combat training so Rhy wasn’t _completely_ helpless. Even so, Maxim wasn’t particularly preoccupied with Rhy’s lessons. When Rhy was in his teens, he had said that the lessons were interfering with other responsibilities (today, he can’t even remember what excuses he had given), and Maxim had easily agreed to put them on hold, and never made an effort to reinstate them. Rhy knew why, and it was the same reason he had asked to stop them in the first place: a steel sword, even enchanted steel, would provide very little protection against a talented magician, and if there were to be an attack on the Maresh heir, the magicians would be beyond _talented_. And besides, they had Kell.

 _Kell_. Rhy said his name in his head, even though they couldn’t communicate through their bond with words. He wondered where he was, and what sort of trouble Bard was getting them into. It couldn’t have been more than he could handle, because the surprise injuries that popped up over Rhy weren’t frequent. Sometimes he’d be a little sore, wake up with a bruise or two that were not his own, but they never lasted long and Kell was careful.

More than anything else, he felt his brother’s overwhelming elation at his newfound freedom. Compared to the dark gloom and restlessness that usually hung over Kell, it was a marked improvement. For that alone, despite how desperately he missed him, he wished Kell to stay away as long as he pleased. The Maresh Kingdom owed him that much.

And then, of course, there was the persistent thought that, perhaps if he hadn’t neglected his broadsword training for so long, he would’ve been skilled enough to save Queen Emira from Col. The thought left him cold all over, more eager than before to distract himself with something else.

Rhy ended up discovering an old book that his father had been reading through before he died. It made Rhy’s heart clench, reading his carefully dated and annotated notes. His last set of notes was dated eight days before his death.

“There you are.”

Rhy flinched in surprise and turned on the couch he had sat on, finding Alucard standing by a bookshelf, arms crossed, looking impossibly lean and handsome.

Rhy opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came to mind, which was telling in itself.

Alucard came to the other side of the couch, settling next to Rhy. He made a soft, pensive sound when he saw what was in Rhy’s hands, recognizing King Maxim’s messy scrawl.

Despite his bodily insecurities, dwelling on Kell’s absence and the untimely, violent deaths of his parents had left a feeling of longing in his chest. He drew himself into Alucard, who opened his arms and let him settle into them. Rhy exhaled a shaky breath against Alucard’s chest, and Alucard raised a hand to card through Rhy’s black hair.

Alucard held him wordlessly. He had to do this more frequently for Rhy when Kell first left, when his parents first died. The idea that Alucard would leave - compounded by the fact that he _had_ left before - filled Rhy with more terror and anxiety than he could put into words. He would be well and truly alone if Luc left. Rhy was a gregarious and beguiling young man, one who was charming and made acquaintances easily. But, there were few who really _knew_ the new King of Arnes. Two years ago, Rhy would’ve said that belonging on that list were the king and queen, his brother Kell, and his then-lost lover, Alucard.

Now, his parents were dead, Kell was oceans away, and Alucard- well, Alucard had decided to stay this time.

 _This_ time.

Rhy had found the ability to voice the fear a few weeks after Kell had left, and Alucard had gone deathly pale.

“I’ll never leave again, Rhy. _Never_. I...I am so sorry I ever did.”

Rhy had only sniffled in response, still deep in the throes of mourning his parents’ deaths and drowning beneath the pressure of the crown. He spent most of those days pacing, drinking, crying in Alucard’s arms, then getting himself together to try to appear to Arnes and the rest of the world that he was prepared to fill King Maxim’s shoes.

And with Alucard’s help, somehow he had done it. The citizens were as fond of him as they were when he was a prince, perhaps more so as whispers spread of Rhy riding fearlessly into the black fog, rescuing and protecting those remaining on the streets. As time went on, Rhy felt increasingly comfortable with the title of king. He wasn’t at total ease with the crushing weight of the crown, and perhaps he never would be, but once his father had said something along the lines of, “You’re doing well if you’re always questioning if you’re doing well.”

Rhy felt selfish sometimes, how willingly he broke down and cried to Alucard, how easily he accepted every comforting embrace and every soft, soothing word. The ordeal, the calamity of Osaron, had taken just as much from Alucard as it had from Rhy. Rhy saw the haunted look in Alucard’s eyes sometimes, before he could cover it with mirth. He saw the tremor in Alucard’s hands, his silvered veins betraying the movement by catching the light. Or the hitch in his breath, or the locking of his jaw, or the way he’d easily outdrink Rhy on a bad day.

It was almost frustrating, because it wasn’t as if Rhy didn’t _try_ to comfort him. On rare occasions, Alucard would accept, usually when he was particularly raw; if he had just awoken from a nightmare, or if he had drank enough that his emotions overflowed like water, or if he had flinched hard enough that even _he_ couldn’t pretend nothing was wrong.

Because that’s what he would do on most occasions; he’d pretend nothing was wrong. He had admitted to Rhy once that he just tried not to think about those things when they came into his mind; Berras and Anisa, memories of the overwhelming fever and hallucinations, the loss of Lenos, Stross and Tav, getting his mind ripped apart by the black mist. “I’m just trying to move on,” he had confessed, his voice somehow hard and wavering at the same time, “Not busy my mind with the happenings of the past.”

Rhy wondered who’s coping method was more effective. Frankly, it felt like neither. They had both improved, surely, slowly healing with the passing of time, and nowadays they could go a few weeks without a hitch in either of their moods. But all it took was a single trigger to send either of them back into a dark place, plagued by nightmares as if not a day had passed since Osaron plunged London into blackness.

Now, Alucard pressed his lips to Rhy’s temple.

“Do you miss the _Night Spire_?” Rhy asked suddenly.

Alucard stiffened almost imperceptibly. “Sometimes,” he admitted, surely knowing it would be worse to pretend he didn’t. Rhy appreciated his honesty, even if it corroborated the fear of being left behind again.

Alucard made a pensive sound, running his hand through Rhy’s hair again and tugging him even closer, until Rhy was properly in his lap. Alucard kept his arms wrapped around Rhy’s chest and shoulders.

Rhy wasn’t short but Alucard was taller still, and Rhy always felt soothed being surrounded by him. But, insecurity returned in a sharp pang; Alucard could surely feel how much heavier Rhy was than he used to be. How much softer his rear and thighs were, how-

“It was never my own choice, though. It...well, it didn’t _feel_ like my own choice,” Alucard continued, breaking Rhy out of his thoughts. Rhy picked his head up off Alucard’s chest to look at him.

“I was...so angry when I was first given the _Spire_. Not because I didn’t want a ship, not because I didn’t want to work for the crown, but because I was being banished. I was being told to leave London. And I...”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to leave, Rhy. Not again.”

Rhy raised a hand to Alucard’s chest and met his eyes. “I know.”

Alucard didn’t look entirely convinced. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were swimming with an earnestness that Rhy never would’ve imagined he’d be able to get from Alucard when they first met.

Alucard placed his hand over Rhy’s where it was still on his chest. “Anything I miss about my life on the _Spire_ pales in comparison to my life with you.”

Rhy’s rational mind knew he was being honest. Still, it was hard for him to wrap his head around. He was a far cry from the easy, fun-loving prince Alucard had fallen for. Now he was a king, tortured by the memory of dying multiple times and losing his parents and everything that had happened in between. Nightmares still plagued him, and nighttime could still be difficult in general. Only a month or so ago, Rhy had had a nightmare so vivid and intense that he woke in the middle of the night, crawled onto the floor and vomited. Rhy had felt so weak and pathetic, but Alucard had carefully cleaned him up and led him out of their usual quarters while a chambermaid cleaned the mess Rhy had made. Alucard then brought him to Rhy’s princely chambers, walked to the armchair, the one in front of a window, and sat in it, pulling Rhy into his lap. The moon had been bright and the luminosity was comforting, and slowly but surely, Rhy had calmed and fallen asleep in his arms.

Rhy gave him a small smile, trying not to focus on what a handful he was, instead teasing, “Not even having your very own crew to boss around, Mr. Emery?”

“That’s _Captain_ Emery to you.”

Rhy laughed and Alucard smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to Rhy’s cheek.

Too soon, Alucard shifted, placing Rhy back onto the couch. “Come,” he said, standing up and offering Rhy a hand, “Dinner’s been ready for some time now.”

Rhy blinked, surprised, “Is it so late already?”

Alucard gave a small smile tinged with sadness, “Sunset was a while ago. You’ve been gone most of the day.”

Rhy frowned, getting to his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Alucard stepped closer, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. He held Rhy’s face when he pulled away.

“Love,” Alucard said, “You’re allowed to have bad days.”

Rhy shook his head, “Maybe. But they can’t interfere with my responsibilities as king. I need to do better.”

“No,” Alucard said, “You’re doing brilliantly. I can handle your kingly duties when you need space, even if I’m no king.”

 _Yet_. It hung unspoken between them. Their marriage was officiated by Master Tieren, but it was entirely private, and only the three of them knew of the union, along with some nobility that had been around when Alucard all but proposed. Rhy refused to announce it to the kingdom and have a public celebration before Kell’s return. He couldn’t imagine the affair without his brother by his side.

Pretend as he might, Rhy knew being a king wasn’t something Alucard was particularly interested in. Alucard already struggled with resentment for his own noble upbringing. Rhy understood, and suggested they keep their marriage private indefinitely. Alucard hadn’t seemed too pleased by the idea of that either, and they had simply agreed they’d discuss it later. 

“Thank you,” was all Rhy said. It felt like such an understatement. Alucard smiled, stepping closer and putting a hand on Rhy’s waist, right above a plump bulge of flesh that pushed over Rhy’s waistband.

Rhy stiffened, remembering himself, and said, “Actually, I don’t have much of an appetite. Maybe I’ll just return to our quarters.”

Alucard’s hand on his side held him tighter, and Rhy tried not to flinch at the feeling of Alucard’s strong fingers sinking into his plush flesh.

“I’m doubtful you’ve eaten anything all day,” Alucard said, looking vaguely concerned, but putting a teasing smile on anyway, “I’m afraid I must insist, my liege.”

Rhy huffed, feeling a bit comforted that Alucard didn’t want him skipping meals, despite how he probably felt about Rhy’s new shape overall. He obediently followed Alucard to the dining hall.

During dinner, Alucard was obviously trying valiantly to lift Rhy out of the mood he had fallen into. He made jokes, gave Rhy little charming looks, flirting from across the table, pulling out all the stops. More than the actual jokes or flirtations, the effort made Rhy smile, even if it was still wan. He _was_ feeling better, truly. Less bone-crushingly alone. Alucard was with him, and would stay with him.

He was left only with the new unease about his body. Rhy picked at the food, having a few bites of this and that, forcing down a few more when Alucard gave his plate a disapproving look. Rhy was historically a big fan of any and all indulgences, but tonight the food tasted like ash on his tongue.

 _It’s for the best_ , Rhy thought with a grim satisfaction. If food tasted less good, perhaps it would be easier to eat less.

Guiltily, he could tell Alucard was still worried. He wore it subtly whenever he was trying to cheer Rhy up, but it was there. The subtle downturning of his mouth. The crease between his brows. The way he’d watch Rhy carefully when he thought he wasn’t looking.

He knew he should probably just _tell_ Alucard. After all, he’d probably be relieved to hear Rhy was planning on doing something about it.

But it was just so _embarrassing_. His mind wandered to all the slim royals he’d seen Alucard flirt with over the years, and how fit Alucard still was, how hard he trained-

“Rhy?”

Rhy’s head snapped up. They had finished dinner and while he was still lost in his own mind, they had walked back to their chambers. Had Alucard been calling his name for a while?

Judging by the unguarded worry in Alucard’s eyes, yes.

“I’m alright,” Rhy said quickly.

“Are you?” Alucard questioned, his voice so soft that Rhy hardly heard him. His deep blue eyes bored into him. He looked tired. Old, almost. Alucard hadn’t told Rhy himself, but Kell told him of the mysterious Maris, and how she took 4 years from Alucard in exchange for that mirror. It wasn’t a lot, but Rhy could see it, how the lines around his eyes and mouth were just a little deeper than they should’ve been. 

When Rhy hesitated to answer, Alucard sighed and said, “Come lay with me.”

It was like ice in Rhy’s veins. They were both highly appreciative of human bodies and, well, sex in general. It was what had drawn them to one another initially; two attractive, garish and debonair young royals, both well known for promiscuity. When they laid together, even without the assumption of having sex, it was rarely clothed.

Sure enough, Alucard pulled his own tunic over his head, revealing his well muscled abdomen. Even when Rhy was thin, he never had definition like _that_. Rhy was broad and sturdy, built along the same lines as his father, but he had never had true _abs_ , at least not like Alucard’s. Frankly, Alucard looked even stronger and more defined than he had been during _Essen Tach_. He knew that with Kell’s absence, Alucard felt pressure, seeing himself as the king’s last line of defence. He trained regularly and vigorously in the sanctuary.

Sanct, he looked good.

Rhy chewed his lip.

Alucard had stripped himself down, naked, and Rhy only stared, feeling victimized by the unfairness of it all.

“Rhy,” Alucard said, his voice so full of emotion that his heart wrenched. He stepped closer and reached for the hem of Rhy’s shirt.

Rhy couldn’t help it, he flinched away and blurted, “I-I’m a bit cold, actually.”

That was all it took; between that, and eating so little at dinner, understanding finally dawned in Alucard’s eyes. Rhy felt his heart pick up, panicked.

“Love,” Alucard said, kissing Rhy tenderly on the lips. When he pulled back, he said, “Please. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my entire life, in all my travels, in all the nations I’ve been to.”

Rhy groaned, feeling shame creep up in his throat again. Since Alucard obviously knew now what was plaguing his mind was silly and shameful, Rhy couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Alucard hesitated, his face surprised, and bringing a hand to rest on Rhy’s soft waist. “You...hadn’t noticed?”

Rhy was sure he was blushing fiercely. “ _No_. I hadn’t,” he said tersely.

Alucard had the audacity to grin. “Well, that should show you how little it matters, then.”

Rhy blinked, then frowned, “How can you say that? Of course it matters.”

Alucard gave him an innocent, doe-eyed look. “How so?”

“How- how so?! I’m the king! I shouldn’t be allowing myself to get _fat_ off the wealth of my nation.”

“You’re not fat. An extra stone or two doesn’t make you fat. And if you’re eating a little extra, I hardly think that’s going to bankrupt all of Arnes.”

“It’s at _least_ two stone. And it’s the _image_ , Luc, it doesn’t look good to the citizens,” Rhy snapped.

Alucard pursed his lips and said softly, “If my memory of King Maxim serves, he wasn’t particularly svelte.”

His father had indeed grown a bit portly later in his life. “Well- maybe not, but he was when he was my age!” And still, right until his death he was fitter and stronger then than Rhy had probably ever been. His father had been built to be a soldier, to fight, but Rhy...well, Rhy was not. Where his father had grown pot-bellied, Rhy had soft curves.

Alucard’s eyes were patient, “When King Maxim was your age, he was in the middle of a war.”

Rhy waved his hands out by his sides, “As if my reign has been peaceful?”

“Rhy, love, your strengths aren’t in physical combat anyways-”

Rhy bristled, “I’m well aware of my powerlessness, thanks.”

Alucard looked lost, realizing he had said the wrong thing. “Rhy, please, that’s not what I meant. Do you think Kell would make a better king?”

Rhy was surprised by the question, then almost scoffed. He loved his brother dearly, but he couldn’t imagine him inspiring the citizens and building long lasting relationships with other leaders and nations. He didn’t have the greatest social skills and beyond that, many feared him and he was notoriously bad at dispelling such fear.

The answer to his question was obviously _no_ , so when Rhy didn’t answer, Alucard continued, “Kell is raw power. He’s _antari_ , aven, he’s practically made of magic. But if I may be frank, he’d be an abysmal king.” He held onto Rhy’s shoulders. “Rhy, it doesn’t matter if you have that kind of power. You have all the essential skills to be king, Maxim made sure of that much. He never doubted you, Rhy, not once, so don’t doubt yourself. Especially not because of something like your weight.”

Alucard held his gaze evenly and stubbornly, ready to dispute whatever Rhy said next. Rhy bit his lip, deflating, and hating himself for still feeling self-conscious.

Rhy sighed. “Alright, fine.”

Alucard grinned triumphantly. Rhy huffed.

“Does this mean I can coax you into laying with me?” Alucard said. Rhy hesitated, and his eyes flitted to Alucard’s unfairly trim waist.

Alucard stepped closer, pushing his chest against Rhy’s. Rhy felt the way his soft stomach, even clothed, mushed against Alucard’s torso. The shame warred with the pleasure of feeling Alucard’s strong body pressed against his.

“Surely you don’t think I wouldn’t _gladly_ have you like this? Did you miss my opening line, what with you being the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in all the world? I’ve seen many, mind you,” Alucard said.

Rhy rolled his eyes. “Don’t spare my feelings, Alucard, don’t act as if you don’t prefer thinner people.”

Alucard’s grin faltered. “You really _do_ think I wouldn’t gladly have you like this?” Alucard shook his head, “Love, I took you just last night. Did I seem displeased? Unaroused?”

He had been passionate, loving, and intense. All the things he usually was.

Alucard cocked his head when Rhy didn’t answer. His silence was unlike him, he knew, a sure sign he was still feeling uneasy.

Alucard pulled him in for a soft kiss. His hands slipped to Rhy’s hips, and after a patient moment, they slipped under the hem of his tunic to rest on his belly. Rhy sucked in, and Alucard pulled back, looking exasperated.

“Would you stop that? I’d like to feel my husband,” Alucard said.

“Luc,” Rhy whined, feeling childish but unable to stop it. He knew Alucard had seen him in all his chubby glory just yesterday, but it was so much harder when he was aware of it.

Alucard met his eyes, looking soft and fond, “I must admit, though, I’ve rather missed the pretty shade your cheeks turn when you blush like this. You haven’t been this shy since the first time I took you.”

 _Shy_ wasn’t a word most would use when describing Rhy. Only Alucard had ever elicited such reactions from him.

Rhy flustered for a moment before settling on, “Shut up.” Alucard laughed outright.

Alucard graciously slid his hands off Rhy’s tummy and moved to rub soothingly up and down over his back, his hands still under Rhy’s shirt. Rhy felt himself sag under his touch.

“Do you remember, when Kell first left, how I’d bring you meals?”

The switch in topic had Rhy blinking, surprised. He did remember; dealing with Kell, and the death of his parents, and the new weight of the crown, the ever-present hollowness that had settled deep in his bones; he’d been too anxious and depressed to have much of an appetite for a few weeks, maybe a month or two. Alucard would bring him a plate, wherever he was, and cajole him into eating as much as he could. It usually wasn’t much.

His appetite picked up, though, _obviously_ , once he had begun truly healing. 

All the same, he nodded.

“Just a few weeks before that, you died in my arms.”

Rhy swallowed.

“And when you wouldn’t eat, I just- Rhy, it terrified me. I imagined you wasting away, growing frail, watching your lifeless hand slip out of mine again-”

Alucard stopped and shuddered out a breath. Rhy himself was hardly breathing.

“That didn’t happen, of course, for which I’m eternally grateful. Rhy, if you have weight to spare, frankly I’m grateful for that, too. There’s vitality flowing through you, and you look so _healthy_ now. And fuck, Rhy, you’re still so unfairly sexy.”

That made Rhy snort weakly and Alucard growled, pulling him tighter against himself.

“You really are, you know,” Alucard insisted, his hands leaving Rhy’s back and pressing into his sides, where he couldn’t suck in. His hands sunk into the softness there and he made a pleased sound. Rhy felt himself blush all over again.

“The softness, it’s nice, Rhy. You’re not _wrong_ , I suppose I haven’t really been with many who had more padding before - not a man, anyways.”

Alucard positioned himself so Rhy could feel him growing hard against his own soft thigh. Between that and Alucard’s words, Rhy listened more earnestly. Alucard...really didn’t mind?

“I thought you would’ve known how well I like your shape by how much I touch you, honestly,” Alucard continued, “It’s not like I don’t touch your stomach regularly.”

Rhy thought about that and realized how true it was. Starting when Rhy was much thinner, Alucard would put a hand over the planes of his abdomen to pull him closer, or to draw absentminded shapes with his fingers, or casually placing a hand there because it was a comfortable resting spot. Alucard was right, and a memory from the night before resurfaced in a rush; after Alucard came inside Rhy’s mouth, he had spooned him, draping a hand over his stomach and contentedly rubbing back and forth. If memory served, he might’ve even given his tummy a squeeze or two. Had Rhy really been so oblivious? There hadn’t been anything to _squeeze_ a few years ago.

Rhy gasped as Alucard gave his belly a little squeeze in real time. His hands had drifted there from his sides and Rhy, caught up in thought, hadn’t sucked in this time.

Alucard grinned devilishly, grinding his erection against where he could feel Rhy beginning to take an interest as well.

“Have I convinced you?” Alucard said, leaning in to press kisses along Rhy’s throat.

Rhy’s eyes flickered to the bed, and he let out a gasp as Alucard nipped gently. He craned his head back just enough to meet Rhy’s eyes.

“I could do with a little more convincing.”

Alucard pulled back further with a wide grin.

“I think I can accomodate.”


	2. Alucard

Alucard wandered around _Soner Rast_ in search of his husband. He hadn’t come down for breakfast, which wasn’t _too_ unusual in itself. Sometimes his dreams unsettled him, leaving him without an appetite. His nightmares were growing thankfully more and more infrequent, but they still occasionally plagued him.

The thought alone had spurred Alucard on his search. Rhy’s sleep hadn’t seemed restless last night, but Alucard had learned that wasn’t always an indicator of anything.

He was relieved to find him on his feet and seemingly okay in their chambers. He was still in his dressing clothes, looking cutely sleep rumpled, and closing his wardrobe. Alucard smiled immediately, assuming he had just risen. A full night’s sleep was still rare for the king, as he still preferred to go to bed as late as he could manage and rise with the sun, not wanting to be alone with the darkness too long.

“Just getting out of bed, are we?” he said, walking over and putting a hand on his hip and kissing his cheek. Alucard smiled wider. Rhy felt good under his hands, like always. He wondered if he could convince his husband for a quick romp between the sheets before they went about their days.

But, upon further inspection of his husband’s expression, Alucard immediately saw something was tense about Rhy. “I’ve been looking for something to wear to the banquet at the end of the month,” he said.

“Ah,” Alucard said. Was he nervous about it? Not likely. Diplomacy was Rhy’s middle name. He walked over to their bed and laid back on it. “Anything strike your fancy?”

“No,” Rhy said, clearing his throat, “I’ll go to the seamstress today, ask her to make something new.”

Something was off, Alucard was now certain. He propped himself up on his elbows and asked, “Everything alright, love?”

Rhy turned towards Alucard with forced ease, a demeanor Alucard had seen on Rhy numerous times when he wasn’t feeling himself but was amongst company, so he still had to act like royalty. 

“Of course,” he said simply, walking over to lay on the bed with him.

Rhy might’ve been a clever and well spoken royal, but he had never worked with pirates. Frankly, Alucard’s lie detector was better than anyone else’s that he’d ever met, even Bard’s (though she’d surely argue).

Alucard gave Rhy a smile, but began thinking deeper, putting together the red flags he’d noticed since walking in the room, seeing if he couldn’t puzzle out the answer of what was bothering Rhy. Usually if it was so simple as a nightmare, or missing Kell, Rhy would just come out and say it. The shame he initially felt over such topics had thankfully diminished to practically nothing.

Rhy still wearing his dressing clothes was unusual. Even if he had been trying on other clothes for the event soon, Alucard would’ve expected him to don a casual tunic for the day, not return into the billowy off-white tunic and loose pants. Rhy never missed a chance to look good.

Well, then again, he _always_ looked good as far as Alucard was concerned.

He had also laid several inches away from Alucard, rather than grinning flirtatiously and sidling up next to him and pressing their bodies together. Rhy reveled in physical attention, in Alucard’s touch, _especially_ when he was upset, so this was...disconcerting.

Beyond that, everything about his body language screamed tense. Not to an outsider to be sure, probably no one in all of Arnes would notice except for Alucard or Kell.

His hands and fingers were twitchy where they were usually still and calm. He was blinking too frequently, eyes flitting to meet Alucard’s with a forced casualness, then darting away. Even now, laying next to Alucard, he was curled in on himself, making himself small.

Something was definitely amiss.

Alucard had turned on his side to face Rhy and grinned at him, hoping his usual playfulness would ease Rhy’s frayed nerves. He moved closer, and pushed his knee in between Rhy’s thighs. Alucard bit back a pleased sound because, sanct, were his husband’s thighs soft. He felt wonderful, as always. Rhy blushed, which was maybe a little unusual, rather than issuing a jaunty taunt or a smooth flirtation, but it was still a very welcome sight nonetheless. The slight pinkening of his tanned cheeks was always lovely. Alucard had to touch; so he reached out, placing his hand on Rhy’s cheek and tracing his lip with his thumb.

“What should we do today?” Alucard asked him, hoping for a leisurely day with Rhy. He’d gladly spend the day trying to bring a real smile to Rhy’s face.

“Well, I’ll be off to the seamstress shortly,” Rhy said, voice edging towards terse.

Alucard made a thoughtful sound, continuing to trace his fingertips over Rhy’s face. Seeing his husband barely clothed, twisting for the royal seamstress, sounded like a lovely way to spend the afternoon. Alucard was still studying Rhy’s face, noting a new puffiness to his jaw and cheeks. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a soft smile. _Cute_. Rhy had put on a bit more weight recently, then, obviously enjoying the abundant autumn festivities. Alucard was glad, because the king had a tendency to skip meals when he was depressed or anxious. Eating well meant he was at ease.

“You wouldn’t rather lie here with me?” Alucard teased.

Rhy grinned at him, and for a moment he almost had Alucard thinking it was real, but the glint in his eyes was missing. 

“As much as I’d love to, I’d rather not procrastinate the errand,” Rhy said.

“I’ll join you, then.”

“No,” Rhy said quickly and firmly, and Alucard felt himself tense. It was very infrequent that he got such a blatant rejection.

“You should go to the sanctuary. Master Tieren could use your help working the spell for the barrier around the Rose Hall,” Rhy continued, looking away.

Alucard frowned, feeling himself grow a tad nervous. It seemed very much like Rhy was trying to be rid of him. Could _he_ have done something to upset Rhy?

“He’s got plenty of priests,” Alucard tried, “am I being dismissed, my liege?” He tried to keep his tone light and teasing, but it didn’t quite pass.

“Of course not. It was just a suggestion. Something to do.”

Alucard looked at his husband carefully, dropping his hand to Rhy’s waist, over the soft, delightful little rolls it folded into when he was propped on his side like this. It was unusual for Rhy to be so secretive with him. Maybe that was the case; Alucard had done something to displease him. Or maybe it was something larger, something political, something he didn’t want to tell Alucard for some reason?

_Or maybe you should just give him space for once in your life_.

Alucard tried not to cringe at that thought. He feared he smothered the king at times, trying so hard to atone for leaving him once. As the thought crossed his mind, Rhy removed Alucard’s hand from his waist, gave his hand a kiss, and slipped out of bed. Alucard felt his heart clench. Rhy was making his way to the door.

“I suppose I’ll see you later this evening, then?” Alucard said, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

Rhy was nodding as he opened the door and slipped out, “Yes, of course,” he said.

“Goodbye, then!” Alucard shouted after him, hearing tenseness and irritation leak into his own voice, and the door was shut.

His first reaction was to spring up from the bed and follow, but he refrained. _He needs space_ , Alucard thought, _that’s all_. 

Alucard lied in bed for a few more moments, pondering the interaction. He wished Rhy would just _say_ what the issue was, even if it was something Alucard had done, even if it was as simple as wanting some space. Alucard wouldn’t blame him. Alucard knew he had gotten a bit...clingy since they rekindled their love. But after Alucard had left, after he learned Rhy had died once, and then after he watched Rhy had died a _second_ time, right in Alucard’s arms, and Alucard had watched Rhy’s body, so warm and full of life, wither and decay in real time-

Alucard felt his stomach churn, and the urge to race after Rhy was stronger than ever, but still, he refrained. It was _hard_ not to be clingy, but Rhy usually seemed to like it, soaking up Alucard’s attention like a sunflower soaks up sunlight. So Alucard didn’t usually hold back.

But perhaps today was different, and Alucard could respect that. He _would_ respect that.

He left their chambers and began wandering. He soon found himself right outside the royal seamstress’s door, and grumbled crankily at his treacherous feet, turning on a heel and walking elsewhere.

_

He ended up passing most of the day in the sanctuary, like Rhy has suggested.

The _Aven Essen_ did, in fact, have plenty of priests helping with arrangements for the upcoming event, so he declined Alucard’s help.

Tieren’s eyes were knowing, though, and he said, “You’re welcome to train here, though, if you’d like. I could spare a priest if you’d like a sparring partner. Kell found them fairly adept.”

Alucard had smiled appreciatively.

The priest, a young man who reminded him somewhat of Hastra, even if he hadn’t known Hastra very well, _was_ talented, but he wasn’t a true match for Alucard’s abilities. Maybe he would be, or at least be _closer_ , if he’d stop holding back.

Alucard complained as much, but the boy had just smiled innocently back and feigned ignorance. Alucard wondered if they were so frustratingly professional and courteous with Kell, too. He would assume probably, if not more so.

The priest had to leave eventually and attend to his duties, but Alucard lingered and trained a while longer, trying to work out his nervous energy, but mostly just exhausting himself.

He returned to the palace proper around dinnertime, only to find the king had not come to sup yet. Fear prickled at him, and he set off in a search.

Their chambers, the late King Maxim’s study, the map room, and Kell’s bedroom all proved fruitless, and they were Rhy’s usual haunts when he was feeling down. The courtyard was also empty, and so were the royal cells.

When he found Rhy in the library, it was a wave of relief. Rhy was reading something, his back to Alucard, curled up on the couch. He hadn’t heard Alucard enter.

“There you are,” Alucard said, feeling relief still washing over him like a warm blanket.

Rhy jumped and turned around, meeting Alucard’s eyes, and opening then closing his mouth. Alucard fought a frown. The passing of the day hadn’t improved his spirits, then.

He came to the other side of the couch, sitting next to Rhy. He saw the book in his hands, and immediately saw notes in the messy handwriting of King Maxim. After pouring over some old journals with Rhy, Alucard couldn’t help but recognize it.

Rhy leaned into him, and it was another fresh wave of relief. Alucard wrapped his arms around him and felt his heart sing when Rhy nestled in deeper, resting his cheek against Alucard’s chest.

Was this the issue all along? Usually when Rhy was missing his parents or Kell, he’d be honest about it to Alucard. Maybe Rhy had gotten inside his own head, tried to convince himself that he should’ve moved past it by now. Alucard wouldn’t put it past him. He was so gentle and thoughtful towards anyone but himself. Alucard pressed a soothing kiss to Rhy’s temple.

Rhy broke the silence, “Do you miss the _Night Spire_?”

Sanct. Was _that_ what this was about? He was fearful of Alucard leaving again?

“Sometimes,” he answered, knowing better than to lie. He missed the unadulterated freedom, going and doing exactly what pleased him in any given moment.

But even while he had been captain of the _Spire_ , he would’ve given it all up in any moment to be back in Rhy’s bed.

Now the only part of being in London, _staying_ in London that made Alucard unhappy was having to see the dignified Emery Estate when he happened to be in the area. Just laying eyes on the house was enough to bring memories of Nis hurling back into his brain so violently that he could hardly function. The emotions only amplified when he remembered Berras still resided within.

The first time he had been back there was shortly after Rhy’s coronation. The whole Royal Procession was with them, and Rhy was expected to visit all the Noble Houses personally and express gratitude, promote his new ideas as king, so on and so forth. Typical tedious royal proceedings. 

It wasn’t that bad, really; Rhy and Alucard were in the royal carriage, curtained, cushioned and private. Alucard accompanied Rhy whenever he stepped out to visit a house, looming over his shoulder like a shadow. As the most recent victor of _Essen Tasch_ , he was technically the most powerful magician in all the world, save for the _antari_. Most believed Alucard to simply be Rhy’s personal guard, and they were happy to keep that appearance for now. Some knew Alucard’s status as Rhy’s lover, but none knew the truth of their marriage.

The royal carriage turned a corner, and through the drapes over the windows, Alucard could see the Emery Estate emerge on the horizon.

He was plagued, immediately, with the memory of the confrontation with Berras the night Alucard had braved the mist to rescue his sister. He remembered her, poor little Anisa, trembling, pale, fighting, but dying. He was forced to confront, for the millionth time, how he had not only left Rhy, but _her_ , too, when he didn’t return to London. And while he hadn’t been too late for Rhy, he had been too late for her.

He then remembered his own battle that night, the unbearable heat, the overwhelming, omnipotent voice demanding to be let in, to give up, give in, and let me in, just _LET ME IN_ -

He hadn’t realized he was shaking, or that his breaths were coming uncontrollably quickly, until Rhy’s tanned hands grasped his tightly.

Alucard had started, meeting Rhy’s gold eyes. He looked only a little frightened, but mostly like he understood completely, a grimness in the set of his jaw.

Alucard was endlessly grateful for the carriage that day, and the privacy it had provided as he began weeping, still shaking violently, rumpled into Rhy’s chest. The carriage slowed, then stopped, and Rhy put his hands firmly on Alucard’s shoulders. Alucard remembered the look on his face so distinctly; somehow understanding, sympathetic, and grounding all at once. It was the first time Rhy had really looked like a king, he thought.

“Stay in here,” Rhy had said, kissing Alucard’s temple, “I’ll be fast.”

And then he was gone, to face Berras alone. Just like Anisa had to face Berras alone for years.

Now, Alucard rolled his shoulders minutely, trying to brush the memory off. He fared a bit better upon seeing the Emery Estate these days, anyways. His hands only got a _little_ shaky.

Rhy still hadn’t responded, and a little worried sound escaped Alucard’s throat. He wished Rhy would just say whatever was bothering him. Alucard was starting to go mad theorizing. He tugged Rhy closer, wanting to feel every inch of his husband. He pulled him onto his lap, feeling the soft spread of his thighs and plump rear.

Alucard tried not to let himself get distracted by how _delicious_ Rhy’s body was. He soldiered on, not wanting Rhy to believe for a second that Alucard would ever leave again.

“It was never my own choice, though. It...well, it didn’t _feel_ like my own choice,” he said.

Rhy tilted his head back to look at Alucard with those wide, amber eyes.

“I was...so angry when I was first given the _Spire_. Not because I didn’t want a ship, not because I didn’t want to work for the crown, but because I was being banished. I was being told to leave London. And I...” The words escaped him.

“I know,” Rhy said, but did he?

“I didn’t want to leave, Rhy,” Alucard insisted, “Not again.”

Rhy placed a hand on Alucard’s chest, “I know,” he said again, and Alucard almost believed him this time. 

He covered Rhy’s hand with his own. “Anything I miss about my life on the _Spire_ pales in comparison to my life with you,” he asserted.

Rhy gave him a sweet little smile, and while it was small, it seemed to be the first genuine smile he’d given all day. “Not even having your very own crew to boss around, Mr. Emery?” he teased.

The joke was an enormous weight off his shoulders. “That’s _Captain_ Emery to you.”

Rhy laughed and the sound made Alucard’s heart soar. They were past this issue for now, he hoped.

Reassured, Alucard placed Rhy back on the couch cushions, rising to his feet and offering Rhy a helping hand. “Come. Dinner’s been ready for some time now.”

Rhy looked surprised, “Is it so late already?”

Alucard felt his face soften, “Sunset was a while ago. You’ve been gone most of the day.”

Rhy took his hand and rose to his feet, his brow furrowing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Alucard leaned in to give him a kiss. He pulled away and held Rhy’s face in his hands.

“Love. You’re allowed to have bad days.”

Rhy shook his head, “Maybe. But they can’t interfere with my responsibilities as king. I need to do better.”

“No,” Alucard insisted, “You’re doing brilliantly. I can handle your kingly duties when you need space, even if I’m no king.”

Rhy looked a little less tense at that. Alucard took him in now, standing, and noticed his tunic was a little snug around the roundness of his tummy. His heart warmed. He had changed out of his dressing clothes, presumably after the seamstress, and was wearing a comfortable blue cotton tunic and matching trousers that he had gotten made several months ago now.

“Thank you,” Rhy finally said.

Alucard smiled, stepping closer and placing a hand on the narrow of his waist, right above where the roundness extended beyond his stomach and flowed into his sides, the flesh there squishy and soft and endlessly fun to fondle.

But suddenly Rhy tensed and said, “Actually, I don’t have much of an appetite. Maybe I’ll just return to our quarters.”

Alucard inadvertently tightened his grip, feeling Rhy’s softness push back into his hand. It wasn’t unusual for Rhy to not have an appetite on a day like today, but Alucard had to make sure he had _something_.

Alucard made himself smile and said, “I’m doubtful you’ve eaten anything all day. I’m afraid I must insist, my liege.”

Rhy huffed, but allowed Alucard to lead him to the dining hall.

They began to eat and Alucard realized immediately something was still certainly wrong.

Beyond Rhy’s disinterest in the food before him, which wouldn’t have been odd on such a day, his smiles were still hollow and his laughs at Alucard’s jokes and flirtations were still forced. Alucard was beginning to feel exhausted, which only frustrated him more. It felt like he was failing Rhy when he couldn’t help, and the bitter taste of defeat rose in his mouth. It reminded him of Rhy’s death, the one he had been present for, when Rhy was screaming and writhing in agony and Alucard had been unable to do anything but beg for instruction. “ _What can I do? What do you need me to do?_ ” he had begged endlessly and haplessly. And then Rhy had died. Alucard had been helpless and completely unable to stop it.

But then, Kell had returned. Rhy had revived.

Alucard felt his face twist. Kell probably would’ve been able to get whatever was bothering Rhy out of him. Maybe Kell had been right all along. Alucard wasn’t good enough for Rhy. Maybe he never had been.

_No_ , he thought, mentally shaking himself, _the only thing that would make me not good enough for Rhy is if I stop trying to be_. He pushed the nagging thoughts aside.

Dinner grew quieter after that, as Alucard found himself less able to jest. Rhy hardly seemed to notice, content to push food around his plate. Alucard frowned, and when Rhy caught his look, he forced down a few more bites.

When they were finished, they walked to their chambers in pregnant silence. Alucard didn’t know what else he could do.

“Would you prefer to be alone, love?” Alucard asked hesitantly when they returned as he shucked off his overcoat. He could wander somewhere else in the palace. He was feeling melancholy enough that he could probably just stare at the night sky for a few hours to occupy his time.

Rhy didn’t answer. Alucard turned and saw him standing and staring out the window with unfocused, distracted eyes.

“Rhy?” he asked tentatively.

Rhy looked at him then, quickly saying, “I’m alright,” at the expression on Alucard’s face.

“Are you?” Alucard said in a whisper, feeling drained.

Rhy didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself.

Alucard sighed, “Come lay with me,” he requested, reaching for the hem of his own shirt. He noticed Rhy tense, _hard_ , at his request. Odd. Something clicked into place in his head. He continued undressing himself.

When Alucard was naked, he saw Rhy staring. Particularly at his narrow waist.

Strike two.

“Rhy,” Alucard begged, stepping closer and reaching for Rhy’s shirt.

Rhy cringed away, his hands coming up to his tunic protectively. “I-I’m a bit cold, actually,” Rhy lied.

Could it really be-?

It all came together in a rush; why he had been shying away from Alucard’s hands, why he’d been testy that morning after trying on old clothes ( _sanct_ , there surely wasn’t much that fit him well), why he had avoided food all day, and now, why he didn’t want to take his shirt off.

Alucard fought the urge to laugh with relief. So he was upset that he’d gotten a bit pudgier lately with the autumn holidays, on top of the bit he had already gained since his coronation? What a silly thing to be upset about. 

“Love,” Alucard said, leaning in to give Rhy a kiss to his lips, “Please. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my entire life, in all my travels, in all the nations I’ve been to.”

Rhy groaned, surely feeling caught.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

Alucard blinked, wondering what he meant. Why would Alucard say anything about him putting on a few more-

_Oh_. Perhaps Rhy hadn’t noticed _any_ of the weight?

Alucard put a hand on Rhy’s waist. Even that was enough to send tingles up his arm. Oh, how he loved to touch Rhy, who was turning a pretty pink again.

“You...hadn’t noticed?” he inquired softly.

“ _No_. I hadn’t.”

It would have been amusing if Rhy weren’t so upset. Alucard resisted the temptation to tease him; frankly, it wasn’t a particularly small amount of weight. Instead, Alucard grinned at him. “Well, that should show you how little it matters, then.”

Rhy looked surprised by how unaffected Alucard felt by the situation and frowned. “How can you say that? Of course it matters.”

Alucard was a firm believer that it, in fact, _didn’t_ , so he said lightly, “How so?”

“How- how so?! I’m the king! I shouldn’t be allowing myself to get _fat_ off the wealth of my nation,” Rhy said. He had obviously given this a lot of thought today.

Alucard fought the urge to roll his eyes, knowing that would be unwise. 

“You’re not fat,” he said, “An extra stone or two doesn’t make you fat. And if you’re eating a little extra, I hardly think that’s going to bankrupt all of Arnes.”

“It’s at _least_ two stone. And it’s the _image_ , Luc, it doesn’t look good to the citizens,” Rhy snapped.

Actually, taking in Rhy’s soft features, the chubbiness of his hips, thighs, and tummy, Alucard would’ve believed the grand total was edging closer to three stone.

But Alucard wouldn’t have Rhy holding himself to an unattainable standard. When he had seen King Maxim for the first time after he had left London, only a few days before the king’s death, he had been a bit more pot bellied than Alucard had remembered. He pursed his lips and said, “If my memory of King Maxim serves, he wasn’t particularly svelte.”

“Well-” Rhy hesitated, and admitted, “Maybe not, but he was when he was my age!”

“When King Maxim was your age, he was in the middle of a war,” Alucard pointed out.

It was the wrong thing to say and it only escalated Rhy, who waved his hands around, “As if my reign has been peaceful?”

Alucard spoke softly, trying to calm him, “Rhy, love, your strengths aren’t in physical combat anyways-”

He realized his mistake as the words left his lips. Rhy’s eyes darkened and he stiffened.

“I’m well aware of my powerlessness, thanks,” Rhy ground out.

Fuck, he was so bad at this. He should’ve known better than to word it like that. Rhy’s inaptitude for magic was always a sore spot, and Alucard knew how desperately he desired even the faintest gift of magic. A reminder never failed to sour Rhy’s mood. Alucard even made an effort to not use his own generous gifts too freely in Rhy’s presence unless necessary. He should’ve known better.

_Sanct_ , Kell really would kill him if he didn’t get better at caring for his brother.

“Rhy, please, that’s not what I meant,” Alucard pleaded. Then a thought occurred to him, a point he could make. “Do you think Kell would make a better king?”

Rhy looked surprised, then his eyes narrowed at Alucard like he was waiting for the punchline, because the obvious answer was _no_. Kell had all the social grace of a wolverine.

“Kell is raw power,” Alucard said, “He’s _antari_ , aven, he’s practically _made_ of magic. But if I may be frank, he’d be an abysmal king.”

Alucard placed his hands on Rhy’s shoulders and continued, “Rhy, it doesn’t matter if you have that kind of power. You have all the essential skills to be king, Maxim made sure of that much. He never doubted you, Rhy, not once, so don’t doubt yourself. Especially not because of something like your weight.”

Rhy’s eyes were still stubbornly set, and Alucard bored into them, poised and ready to dispute whatever lies his pretty little head came up with next.

Thankfully, after a moment’s pause, Rhy bit his lip and conceded, “Alright, fine.”

Alucard grinned, pleased, and Rhy let out an exasperated huff.

“Does this mean I can coax you into laying with me?” Alucard said hopefully. He didn’t miss the way Rhy’s eyes darted to Alucard’s muscled, naked waist.

“Surely you don’t think I wouldn’t _gladly_ have you like this? Did you miss my opening line, what with you being the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in all the world? I’ve seen many, mind you,” Alucard teased.

He expected something equally flirtatious in turn, but Rhy surprised him by saying grimly, “Don’t spare my feelings, Alucard, don’t act as if you don’t prefer thinner people.”

Alucard blinked. Admittedly, he had surely slept with people mostly falling into the categories of either thin or fit. The young nobles from earlier in his life were almost always thin, being too vain and interested in proper suitors and courting to let themselves be anything but until after marriage. Then, during his pirating and privateering days, most of his temporary partners were thieves, pirates, illegal traders; people living lives too dangerous to _not_ be fit.

All the same, a memory surfaced of an enormous Veskan woman who had been one of the best lays of his life. She had been well taller than him, with strongly muscled arms and legs, but a bulging belly and the biggest, softest tits he had ever felt. She had been so unique, her body so stimulating, responsive and _different_ that he had found her irresistible. He had enjoyed her company so much that he had stayed in Vesk a few extra days that trip, much to the chagrin of his crew on the _Night Spire_.

“You really _do_ think I wouldn’t gladly have you like this?” Alucard questioned, feeling vaguely hurt that Rhy even thought such a thing was possible. “Love, I took you just last night. Did I seem displeased? Unaroused?”

Again, Rhy didn’t respond. He looked at Alucard like he _wanted_ to believe that was true, but couldn’t quite muster it.

Perhaps he could show Rhy.

He pulled Rhy into a soft, reassuring kiss. He rested his hands on Rhy’s hips, practically purring at how well they fit in his hands. He savored it, before slipping his hands under Rhy’s tunic to get at that lovely, pillowy belly. Before he got a chance to appreciate the size and shape of it, it quivered and shrank beneath his fingers as Rhy inhaled sharply and didn’t exhale.

“Would you stop that?” Alucard said, allowing a bit of mirth to drip into his voice, “I’d like to feel my husband.”

“Luc,” Rhy whined, his voice gone soft and breathy. _Ooh_ , how that was a tone Alucard loved to elicit. It warmed him in all the right places.

He wasn’t pleased that Rhy was still feeling self-conscious, but frankly, he _loved_ how Rhy wore shyness, not that he got to see it often. He was chewing his lip again, a habit that wasn’t befitting of a king but was unfairly adorable, his eyes wide and pupils blown, his own hands gripping at Alucard’s strong biceps. The color in his cheeks had escalated from pink to red.

Alucard felt the need to tell him how pretty he looked, “I must admit, though, I’ve rather missed the pretty shade your cheeks turn when you blush like this. You haven’t been this shy since the first time I took you.”

Rhy sputtered, cutely flustered, before settling on telling Alucard, “Shut up.”

Alucard chuckled and slipped his hands off Rhy’s stomach to feel the planes of his back. A different tactic might be necessary if Rhy was still unwilling to let Alucard feel him.

“Do you remember, when Kell first left, how I’d bring you meals?” Alucard asked.

Rhy hesitated, caught off guard, but nodded.

“Just a few weeks before that, you died in my arms.”

Rhy’s eyes widened. That wasn’t an experience either of them really liked to talk about, but Alucard especially.

Alucard continued to explain, “And when you wouldn’t eat, I just- Rhy, it terrified me. I imagined you wasting away, growing frail, watching your lifeless hand slip out of mine again-”

Emotion was clawing its way up his throat before he knew it and he stopped speaking, knowing that if he continued his voice would break. He took a few breaths to calm himself, chasing away the memory of Rhy as a withered, old corpse.

“That didn’t happen, of course, for which I’m eternally grateful,” Alucard said, “Rhy, if you have weight to spare, frankly I’m grateful for that, too. There’s vitality flowing through you, and you look so _healthy_ now. And fuck, Rhy, you’re still so unfairly sexy.”

Rhy snorted skeptically, but it was a weaker protest than he had been giving, so Alucard would count it as something. He growled low in his throat, roughly pulling Rhy closer and feeling a thrill at how Rhy’s body yielded under his hands.

“You really are, you know,” Alucard said. His fingers found Rhy’s soft, chubby sides. The texture was _delicious_ , endlessly plush and warm, with enough give to bounce back playfully when Alucard gave it a squeeze. He made a happy sound, more than pleased with what his fingers were finding, as Rhy flushed deeper, the pink creeping down his neck.

“The softness, it’s nice, Rhy. You’re not _wrong_ , I suppose I haven’t really been with many who had extra padding before - not a man, anyways,” Alucard admitted.

Alucard was getting excited from the vision his husband was making and the sensation his hands were feeling. He positioned himself so Rhy could feel his _growing interest_ , pressed up against his plush thigh.

“I thought you would’ve known how well I like your shape by how much I touch you, honestly. It’s not like I don’t touch your stomach regularly,” Alucard said. Really, he’d grown rather fond of giving the doughy swell plenty of kisses and squeezes. He’d noticed, actually, that Rhy seemed a little more sensitive and responsive to touches along his belly, thighs and nipples since growing heavier. He must not have been fully aware of it; how he had liked those touches well enough in the past, but now they were enough to have him writhing underneath Alucard in minutes.

Rhy seemed to be considering that, and Alucard greedily used his moment of distraction to get his hands back on that gloriously, shamelessly round tummy his husband had grown. Rhy didn’t seem to notice this time, letting it round out into Alucard’s hands. Alucard cupped it softly, and after a few moments, he couldn’t help himself from giving an amorous squeeze.

Rhy shuddered and gasped, and Alucard couldn’t keep a devilish grin off his face. Yes, his husband was _definitely_ more sensitive there. He ground against Rhy again, grinning even wider when he felt his husband’s cock beginning to swell against his own.

“Have I convinced you?” Alucard murmured, eyeing the softness around Rhy’s jaw and neck, leaning in to give it kisses.

Rhy made a breathy sound. Alucard pulled back and glanced at his eyes, meeting his golden stare. Rhy looking at him through thick black lashes, demure.

“I could do with a little more convincing,” he said, sounding like himself for the first time all day.

Alucard didn’t think he could grin harder if he wanted to.

“I think I can accomodate,” he said, nudging Rhy backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Rhy sank onto it, tugging Alucard with him.

“Luc,” escaped Rhy as an absentminded whisper before their lips crashed together again. Alucard was feeling particularly desperate, fueled by the relief that Rhy wasn’t upset with him, or about anything important, really.

Alucard was straddling his lap, which aligned his groin right up against the little mound of Rhy’s belly, the pooch emphasized by him sitting. The sensation of _give_ against his cock was maddeningly blissful. He couldn’t help grinding, slow and rhythmically, against it. It was almost too much, the unlubricated friction against Rhy’s tunic, but his cock was already leaking enough that it was just bearable.

Rhy was squirming underneath him, though, and while the additional movement felt good, it was clear it was from discomfort.

Alucard pulled back, biting back a frustrated groan. “What’s wrong?”

“I- my-” Rhy huffed, glaring at Alucard, but it was weak and kittenish, laced with insecurity.

When Alucard only stared (he’d had enough of Rhy’s silence for the day), Rhy sighed and looked down, pushing his clothed stomach in with one hand.

“It’s in the way,” he ground out, “Don’t act like you can’t tell.”

Alucard understood; Rhy had thought he was trying to grind his bare cock against Rhy’s clothed one, rather than shamelessly grinding against his belly fat.

“You misunderstand, love,” Alucard purred, batting Rhy’s hand away and grinding once more, slowly and purposefully, so Rhy could see how precise and intentional his movements were. Rhy’s pink cheeks were back anew.

“You feel _fantastic_ ,” Alucard said, “Your body is marvelous. I’m almost sad I don’t have such softness so you could see how this feels, too.”

“Luc,” Rhy whined again.

“Put your arms up,” Alucard said, and Rhy’s cheeks _flamed_. He obeyed, not before letting out another embarrassed sound in the back of his throat. Ugh, did he have any idea what he was doing to Alucard? If he hadn’t already spent half the day hating himself for this, Alucard would’ve guessed his husband was just teasing him by acting so shy and coy.

Alucard pulled Rhy’s tunic off, revealing the expanse of rich, tanned skin beneath. His torso was mostly hairless, devoid of the spattering of hair that Alucard had on his chest. The hair on Rhy’s chest was sparse, and he had a lovely, fuzzy trail from his belly button leading to his pubic hair.

His tummy rounded outwards, chubby and spilling over the waistband of trousers that were growing a bit snug. The roll of love handles above his hips were highlighted by sitting, and his sides creased right above the swells of fat. He definitely looked plumper like this, sitting, shirtless, and it thrilled Alucard. Saints. How could one man be so cute and sexy at the same time?

If there was one thing Alucard had learned early, it was that Rhy Maresh was truly one of a kind.

Rhy was watching him carefully. When Alucard met his eyes he bit his lip again, but the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile.

“Look at you, _sanct_ , do you have any idea what you do to me?” Alucard said, swiping a thumb over a puffy nipple.

Rhy jolted under him, surprised, and gave a breathy, uneven laugh, glancing down where Alucard’s cock was smearing precum on Rhy’s bare belly. Then he glanced at his discarded tunic, also bearing a fair amount of Alucard’s precum.

“I think I’m- oooh, _fuck_ , Luc,” Rhy was cut off by Alucard leaning down to take one of Rhy’s nipples into his mouth, then mouthing at the somewhat puffy flesh surrounding them. Rhy started over, “I think I’m starting to get it.”

“ _Starting_ to?” Alucard teased, “Perhaps a more practical demonstration is needed.”

Rhy grinned, “I think that would be helpful.”

Alucard pushed him roughly onto his back. Rhy gave a delighted little yelp that dissolved into breathy laughter, then into a moan as Alucard switched from nipping to sucking at Rhy’s throat.

Alucard stayed there for a moment before Rhy swatted weakly at him.

“You’d better not leave a mark. I have court tomorrow.”

Alucard pulled off, pressing a kiss to the red area that was already likely to bruise now, anyways. He grinned devilishly at Rhy, “But I love marking you up for court.”

“I’m not sure the citizens feel the same,” Rhy said, breathy, as Alucard kissed down his chest.

“Maybe I’ll mark you up down here, then,” Alucard said once he reached his belly, giving a little lick to one side of his belly button.

Rhy shivered and made a choked sound, like he was going to protest but it died on his tongue when he realized how _good_ it felt.

_He’s grown so soft_ , Alucard thought, almost absently, as he nosed, kissed, licked, and nipped all over Rhy’s stomach and sides, trying to find wherever was the absolute _softest_. That’s where he’d leave his mark.

It was a tough choice between the decadent pooch of fat below his belly button and chubby, nearly flabby, roll on his hip. So he figured he may as well do both.

Alucard latched on to a love handle, a muffed groan escaping him when Rhy’s pudge yielded easily under his mouth. Rhy was squirming under him and had brought a hand to tug at Alucard’s brown curls. Alucard brought a free hand up to tweak a nipple, then he cupped the flesh surrounding it. Not really proper tits, but then again, it was still more than some women sported. More than Bard, probably. Not nearly enough to fill Alucard’s hand, but enough to hold and squeeze, so he did.

Rhy tilted his head to give Alucard a glare, but when Alucard blinked innocently at him with his mouth still latched on his side, he gave his little breast another gentle squeeze, Rhy couldn’t suppress a shudder and his face twisted in pleasure.

Alucard pulled off then, grinning against the red, bruising flesh he left in his wake.

Alucard pulled back, raking his eyes over Rhy’s torso. Aside from the proper bruise forming on his side, he had small red marks here and there from Alucard getting perhaps a bit too nippy in his explorations. What could he say? He couldn’t help it. Rhy’s body was beautiful, and endlessly fun to play with. 

He wondered if he should leave Rhy’s poor lower belly alone then, but just pressing his lips back there chased that thought away, the way it moved from the slightest stimulation.

“Sanct, Rhy, this body was made to be touched. Admired. You’re- fuck, you’re really gorgeous, love.”

Rhy didn’t have a chance to respond before Alucard latched onto his lower belly, where it shifted and wobbled nicely with Rhy’s impatient squirms.

“Luc,” Rhy complained, his voice pitched high and impatient. Alucard gave his unbruised side a quelling pat, and marveled at the reverberations it sent through his tummy. Rhy always lost patience before Alucard. Perhaps it was that princely entitlement. Alucard could feel his husband’s cock pressing insistently into him, so he gave Rhy’s crotch a teasing grope and he _writhed_ below him. Alucard smiled through his mouthful of pudge.

He sucked on Rhy’s belly fat until he was satisfied, only then pulling off with a wet _pop_ and moving to unlace Rhy’s britches.

Rhy tugged at Alucard’s shoulders, trying to bring him up, and Alucard complied, letting Rhy pull him into a hot, sloppy kiss. Alucard moaned appreciatively into the kiss when Rhy did that little _thing_ with his tongue that he was so good at- his husband was a man of many talents.

Once he pushed Rhy’s trousers and undergarments off, Alucard relaxed his body, letting it cover Rhy’s as they kissed. He felt the way Rhy’s soft tummy pushed out against his lean stomach, grown too round to be flattened completely by gravity. It was a reminder that Rhy was _alive_ , and not just alive, but finally thriving once more.

Alucard would’ve been content to lay like that for hours, but he’d already been teasing Rhy for a while, he supposed, and his husband was getting a little worked up. He was pushing his hips up, trying to get friction against Alucard, and he alternated between taking handfuls of Alucard’s shaggy hair and reaching around to grope Alucard’s ass.

Alucard pulled away from the kiss and met Rhy’s eyes. His lips were swollen and his golden eyes were heavy-lidded, his black hair tousled and messy. Laying on his back also emphasized the bit of pudge growing along his jawline, and Alucard leaned in to press his lips against it.

“What would you like to do, love?” he murmured into Rhy’s jaw, “Would you like me to fuck you? Or would you rather do the honors?” He pulled back to meet Rhy’s eyes, grinning, “Or I could make you cum from just my fingers again, that’s always fun, and ooh, it’s been a while since I dirtied my mouth with that pretty hole of yours-”

Rhy gave a breathy laugh, “When you say it like that it’s hard to choose.”

“Well, the night is young.”

Rhy grinned at him, unabashed.

“Fuck me, then,” Rhy said.

Alucard grinned back, “As you wish, my King.”

Rhy groaned as Alucard patted his hip, encouraging him to back up further onto the bed, to get into a more comfortable position. Rhy moved without question, complaining but still grinning, “What did I say about calling me that in bed?”

Alucard retrieved the oil from its spot. Seeing Rhy smiling uninhibited was just such a relief after that day, that Alucard couldn’t help teasing further, feigning terror, “Have I displeased you?! Please forgive me, my liege, your Royal Majesty.”

He coupled it with a deep, trembling bow that had Rhy laughing out loud, and it was music to Alucard’s ears.

“Would you stop that? Get back over here.”

Alucard obeyed this time, climbing back on the bed and grinning wolfishly before crashing their lips together. He made a show of pulling back and uncorking the oil, nudging Rhy’s legs apart with his knees. They fell open easily, inviting him in, and Alucard groaned, feeling his cock leak.

“Do you see what you do to me?” Alucard said, reaching down to give his own cock a pacifying squeeze.

Rhy watched him, looking languid and relaxed, giving him sultry eyes that made Alucard absolutely _weak_.

Alucard drenched a few fingers in oil and slipped two of them between Rhy’s plump cheeks. Rhy shivered, and that was enough to make his tummy and thighs quiver, just barely. Alucard swallowed heavily and, with the hand that wasn’t stretching Rhy, grabbed the base of his own cock, trying to calm down a little. He’d be of little use if he entered Rhy at this moment. He was a bit too close.

Rhy watched him, and a pleased smile curled his lips.

Alucard shook his head, “I can hardly even look at you. I’ll come before I get inside you.”

“And yet, you haven’t seemed to look away.”

“I can’t help it,” Alucard complained, “I’m weak, and you’re so, so beautiful.”

Rhy laughed, accepting the compliment with his usual ease. He shifted, trying to subtly push himself further down onto Alucard’s fingers.

“Your desperation is showing,” Alucard chided.

Rhy made a little annoyed sound, “Get on with it, then,” he whined. “Please,” he added as an afterthought when Alucard laughed heartily.

Alucard curled a finger upwards, just to watch Rhy buck and choke out a gasp, surprised. “Patience, love,” Alucard purred, more than pleased to have Rhy whimpering and begging beneath him.

Rhy wasn’t good at patience, though, and he got his strong fingers around Alucard’s forearm, encouraging him forward. Rhy was weak by no means, but Alucard could have resisted, could have tried to deny him.

But he didn’t. And he wouldn’t. He’d never truly deny Rhy a single thing for as long as he lived.

He slipped his fingers out and lined himself up, slipping between Rhy’s soft cheeks and sighing unsteadily as his cock was enveloped in warmth. Rhy took a moment to prop himself up against the pillows a little better, and Alucard watched with unbridled fascination as Rhy’s tummy folded into two soft, pudgy rolls.

Rhy followed his eyes, looking down at his stomach. He bit his lip and blushed again, meeting Alucard’s eyes hesitantly. It wasn’t the same crippling insecurity as earlier, but a soft shyness, a lingering uncertainty.

Alucard splayed a hand over the rolls protectively and pressed their lips together. Rhy’s shy moment didn’t last long, and soon he was feeling every hard plane of Alucard’s back, chest and arms as Alucard picked up a steady rhythm.

Rhy’s thighs and ass had always had enough mass that they moved from the impact when Alucard fucked him, but they hadn’t used to jiggle like this. It wasn’t new to Alucard, who’d been attuned to the changes in his husband’s body for a while, but after talking about them, he couldn’t help but be particularly fixated. The lower roll of his belly, too, was moving softly with Alucard’s thrusts.

He didn’t want it to be over too soon, but perhaps Alucard had gotten them both a little too worked up during foreplay. Judging by the arch of Rhy’s back and the uncontrolled trembling of his thighs, he was as close as Alucard.

He figured he may as well finish them up, then. Like he had said, the night was young. Nothing helped Rhy sleep like being well fucked.

Praying he’d last long enough to get Rhy off first, he angled himself the way he had a hundred times before, knowing Rhy’s sweet spot well. Alucard used his hand still slick from the oil to work Rhy’s cock. Rhy choked out a loud cry, and Alucard dug his fingers into Rhy’s soft thigh and pulled him further down onto his cock, and Rhy’s sob filled the air as he came over his stomach and Alucard's hand.

Tension left Alucard’s body as he came desperately just a few pumps after. He slipped out of Rhy’s hold a few beats later, watching the mess drip from Rhy’s hole. He ran a thumb over it, just to be a tease, and Rhy groaned and laughed weakly, trying and failing to swat him away.

“Come here,” Rhy requested lazily when Alucard stayed between Rhy’s thighs. Alucard was busy looking at how lovely Rhy’s tummy looked with his own cum glistening over the surface.

Alucard leaned down and began lapping it up, feeling the softness emphasized by the silky discharge. Cum wasn’t usually a flavor he particularly enjoyed, not like Rhy who’d gladly taste even his own, but with his head still swimming with the ecstasy of release and Rhy looking so bloody _good_ covered in it, it was the tastiest thing he’d ever consumed.

“Mmm,” Rhy hummed, settling back carelessly, closing his eyes, allowing Alucard to have his way with him. Alucard smiled against the warm skin of his belly. He hadn’t always been so lazy after sex. It had no right to be as charming as it was.

When Rhy was covered in both wetness from Alucard’s tongue and his own release, Alucard climbed off the bed and Rhy’s eyes popped open.

“Wait,” he whined, needy, sitting up, “Where are you going?”

Alucard chuckled, “What, am I in the habit of leaving you after sex?” he said, walking back over to the bed to kiss Rhy tenderly, knowing Rhy wouldn’t be bothered by the taste of his cum on Alucard’s lips.

“I was going to poke my head out, ask an attendant to begin filling the bath.”

Rhy perked up, with the promise of another round or two. The enormous clawfoot tub in the adjacent washing chamber was a long standing favorite of theirs.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Alucard said playfully, “I’ve made a mess of your little hole, I need to clean you up properly.”

“And that’s all, I’m sure?”

“Well,” Alucard mused, leaning in for one more kiss, “Maybe not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished a Conjuring of Light literally like two days ago. This whole fic just flowed out of me like water, it practically wrote itself.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like my beginning notes have never been longer for a fic, did anyone actually read it lolol
> 
> (I mostly just get a lil paranoid when writing my brand of kinkiness for fandoms that have been more or less untouched by similar kinkiness ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)
> 
> Highly appreciative of kudos and comments as always~
> 
> Follow me on [ tumblr ](https://akranes-jlc.tumblr.com)!


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